Just Numbers
by Lukeprism
Summary: Preset values located in a remote area of their individual codes; that's all it was. Nevertheless, Felix was intrigued, and Ralph couldn't help but try to humor him. ― Post-movie, Oneshot.


_**A/N: Don'tcha just love my vague summaries.**_

_**DISCLAIMER**__**: I'm not Disney Animation Studios. In other words, I don't own anythin'.**_

―**s―t―a―r―t―f―i―c―t―i―o―n―**

Now, time is a curious thing.

Essentially, it's a human thing, developed by humans for human use. A way for people to keep themselves to a precise, productive pattern. And as time goes on, people change. They grow, they mature, they move on correspondingly. They age.

Although time has always been for humans, the residents of Game Central Station also utilized it; their days started when Litwak's store opened for the day at eight o'clock sharp (eight thirty on weekends) and ended when the last child was ushered out the door. That was their basis, and everything else was determined from there. Like humans, they lived along with time.

Unlike humans, they didn't age. Didn't change, didn't really mature. For the thirty-two years Litwak's Arcade had been open for business, no one had ever gotten any older or younger or anything. They were avatars in electronic entertainment systems, of this they were completely aware. As such, no one was troubled by this fact of their life; after all, who wouldn't want to stick around forever? They were all fine with this, far from bothered by such trivial matters.

All but one.

"Say, Ralph."

The gentle giant shifted a bit from where he'd been lounging sideways on his mound of bricks. Though he had his own cozy house just a couple dozen meters away, old habits died hard. "Hmm?" The addressed man grunted in acknowledgement, red head resting on a humongous palm.

Felix sat on a makeshift chair comprised of well-placed bricks and a touch of golden hammer magic. He held his hat in hands, looking up at his companion. "This might sound a tad silly, but...do you ever get to thinkin' about what it'd be like to age?"

Ralph raised a bushy eyebrow in response, lips pursing in an attempt to answer Felix's question honestly. "Well, I guess I have a little bit," he nodded, blinking slowly. "But not much. Why? Feel like you're getting old?"

Ralph's playful grin went unnoticed by the thoughtful repairman, whom looked past his friend, pensive. "It's just...no one ever bothers celebratin' their birthdays. Every year, when mine comes on around, it's just another normal day. That's not what they're s'posed to be," he remarked, ignoring Ralph's comment entirely.

The not-so-bad guy wasn't convinced. "You can't blame us for that. Nothing changes anyway. We've been the same age for thirty years, Felix."

And Ralph's point was valid; Felix was and had always been a twenty-something and Ralph was thirty-two or so (his code was rather vague).

The blue-clad man merely clicked his tongue. "Even so, I figure it's somethin' that should be at least kinda important. Why would it be in our code if it wasn't?"

Niceland's resident wrecker had nothing to retort with. "...that's a good point," he conceded eventually, scratching his ruddy hair.

"Yeah." The two were silent for a minute after that, Felix with his eyes closed and Ralph evaluating his expression carefully. He seemed a bit saddened. "But I guess there's nothin' to be done about it, so."

Ralph's eyebrows drew together in a combination of two emotions—worry and realization. He didn't like seeing Felix so down, but the smaller man had given him an idea; it wouldn't take much to make it work, either, considering whom he was out to please. "Things don't change on their own, Felix. You know that."

At this Felix chuckled a bit mirthlessly. "I reckon you'd know that best of all, Ralph," he agreed, standing up from where he sat and brushing the seat of his pants in case any rubble happened to cling to the material of his jeans. "Anyway, sorry for havin' kept you up so late; I gotta get goin' myself. Mary Deanne's thermostat apparently needs a lookin' at."

Ralph nodded in understanding. "I see. Welp, tell her I said hello. And why don't you drop by again tomorrow night? We can have dinner at my place."

Felix's face brightened at this, if only a little. "Sure! I'll bring somethin', too, like some—"

"Nah-ah-ah," the bigger man was tempted to waggle his finger as he dismissed the idea. "Appreciate the thought and all, but I'll take care of everything."

It was Felix's turn to don a slightly confused expression. "Well then," he conceded defeat easily enough, "you're awfully set on this. What's the occasion?"

Ralph thought about this for a minute. "Something...special."

And it wasn't a lie; it was special. At least, to Felix. Allowing no more ifs, ands or buts, he all but shooed the repairman off his brick mountain, insisting that he take care of Mary. There were things Ralph needed to get done.

First, he swung by Sugar Rush. When he told Vanellope about his impromptu plan, she gave him a mock little salute and immediately set about the task he'd suggested for her with more gusto than he'd seen in awhile. Promising to be there, she insisted he give her time alone to work.

His next stop was Hero's Duty, visiting his somewhat-of-a-friend Sergeant Calhoun. She prompted him to explain the entire story, and when she fully understood what was going down she begrudgingly gave Ralph props for being so thoughtful. Agreeing to attend, she advised him on what exactly to do in preparation before kicking him back out the door to resume her rigorous training.

At Tapper's, he purchased the goods he knew no good party was without. As an after thought, he went to Pac-man's place to steal another one or four of those delicious cherries he and everyone else loved.

Trudging back to his house, he all but flopped into his bed, exhausted. "Alright then," he said to himself as he settled into the bed that still felt a little off to he whom had always slept in the woods. When sleep came around, it found him confident and ready for the next night.

_-asdfjkl;-_

"That is nowhere near done."

Ralph cursed under his breath, closing the oven door with an audible slam. They were currently located in his small kitchenette, trying and failing to cook lasagna—Felix's favorite dish. "Well, what do you propose I do about it? He'll be here in less than ten minutes!" He was exasperated; first he got caught smuggling cherries and root beer in from the other games, and now this?

Calhoun, dressed in a casual black tee and cargo pants instead of her usual bulky armor, rolled her eyes and smacked him out of the way. "Let it cook, you buffoon." She cranked the heat up. "There. Just take it out sooner, that's all."

Ralph was not reassured. "And where's Vanellope? I told her to be here thirty minutes ago!"

As if on cue, the front door burst open, a clear sign that it wasn't Felix. "Ralph, Ralph!" a familiar high-pitched voice called frantically. The black-haired youth skidded into the room, cake in her small arms. "I, I'm sorry! I baked it and decorated it and it looked _so flippin' good_ but then as I was coming over here I bumped into Rancis and he thought'd it'd be funny to go and ruin it when I said to please lend me some blue icing. Geez, he's such a _jerkwad_!" she fumed, head hung low. Upon closer inspection, the taller duo saw that Vanellope's original words had indeed been overwritten by a big '_Nellope's a knucklehead!_' followed by a mischievous smiley face. "I'll lay into him later, but I'm really _really_ sorry, Ralph."

Ralph rubbed his face. "It's alright, Vanellope, I know it's not your fault." Nevertheless, he was more than a little pissed off; _nothing_ was going as planned!

"I did bring the streamers and the banner I made, though!" The girl raced across the room. "Gimme a sec and I'll hang 'em up!"

Calhoun ran a hand through her short blonde locks. "Well, looks like this is your best plan yet, Wreck-It."

Ralph gave her a mini-glare. "Feel free to leave at any time."

After a few minutes of a stare down of sorts, they were interrupted. "Hey, guys," Vanellope's yell cut through their animosity. "Is this centered?"

They glanced back, and simultaneously grimaced. "Not quite," Ralph admitted, hands on his hips.

"Hold on, girlie, you're doing it wrong," Calhoun announced and, with and eyeroll, went to help her out.

"A little to the left...no, no, to the right. Now it's crooked!"

"How about now?"

"Nope, left more."

As the two struggled to coordinate their individual sides, Ralph sniffed the air. "Hey," he said after a pause, "do you guys smell anything weird?"

He had realized the answer before he was given a response. Calhoun dropped her side of the banner. "The lasagna, idiot, the lasagna!"

They both rushed to the oven and threw the door open, Ralph fumbling with the oven mitts for a good ten seconds before he was able to pull the tray out and set it on the stovetop with a cough. Surveying the damage, they saw a layer of burnt on top of the dish which looked rather unappetizing.

It didn't help when Vanellope sounded small as she mentioned off-handedly, "The banner just kinda ripped..."

He had been working to keep his emotions to a physical minimum recently, but everything just came upon him all at once; his fist collided with the countertop, busting it not-so-cleanly as the noise resounded throughout the house. _Why wouldn't anything go his way?_

Noticing how quiet it had gotten in response, Ralph raised his head to see Calhoun and Vanellope frozen, but not because of him. Felix stood in the doorway, looking similarly shocked at the situation. He looked around. "I...I saw the door open, and I just...what exactly is goin' on here?" His gaze stopped on Ralph and his fist, still embedded in the countertop. "Ralph...?"

Something about Felix's tone simply broke Ralph.

"I'm sorry, Felix," he said, his voice vaguely hoarse. "I got to thinking yesterday, why not throw you a birthday party? But everything's a mess. The lasanga's burnt, the cake's messed up, the booze isn't even here and the banner's busted." He rubbed his face again, defeated. He'd tried and he'd failed. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry, Mister Felix," Vanellope added.

Calhoun also went to address him. "Felix—"

"No. Stop it."

They all started at his flat tone. Ralph looked up to see the other man striding over to get a look at the over-iced cake, then to admire the half-hung '_Happy early birthday, Felix!_' banner, and finally Ralph's charred lasagna. He looked at them all accusingly, and for a second Ralph was sure Felix was the taller of the two.

"How dare you all undermine this work? Sure, maybe it didn't work out like you thought it might, but it's the thought that counts." He pulled Ralph into as big a hug as he could muster. "Y'all tried, and that's more than I could've asked."

Ralph, though he returned the hug, was confused. "But...you said it yourself: Birthdays are supposed to be special. And this," he gestured to his mess of a kitchen, "isn't special."

Felix shook his head. "It ain't the birthday that's really important. They're just numbers passin' by. It's about the people you have with you when it happens." He gazed at Calhoun and Vanellope just as well. "Goin' by that criteria, I'd say that this is the best birthday I've ever had." He looked up at his friend, wearing the goofiest grin. "Thank you, Ralph," he said from the very bottom of his heart.

The man in overalls rubbed the back of his neck. "Of course."

Felix then flashed Vanellope a bright smile. "And a big thanks to you too, Vanellope!" He held his arms out for a hug.

Although under normal circumstances she'd have disapproved of this, she didn't even bat an eyelash as she tackle-glomped him in return. "No problem, Mister Felix!"

Finally the man approached Calhoun, whom wore the beginnings of a smile. He jumped up to place a kiss on her cheek, smiling serenely now. "And thank you, Tamara."

Her smile widened in that rare show of affection she saved just for Felix. "Anything for you, love."

With his displays of gratitude out of the way, he turned toward the oven once more, unable to keep the ghost of a grimace off his face but determined to make the most of the situation. "Now...let's eat!"

―**e―n―d―f―i―c―t―i―o―n ―**

_**A/N: god I'm so laaaame. I feel like I didn't capture Felix's annoying yet endearing drawl or Ralph's vaguely friendly and...idontevenknow voice or anyone's anything at all. Gyuh. Also I feel like this is rather poorly done; I started out all introspective and such and then awkwardly shifted to the dialogue-inclusive parts. I just dunno if I wanna fix it, or how to go about it arghh**_

So let's do a complete one-eighty and have Ralph and Felix be bffs now, huh? That's why this is post-movie. I swear I get the weirdest ideas.

Oh and just for the record Felix/Calhoun is quite possibly the most adorable Disney pairing I've ever come across ever.

Thanks for reading. Enjoy it? Hate it? Sound off in the review box below okay thank youu~


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